The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1887-10-07

| Oh the CLOAK CSuScu new lOe3 20 occur
to him, which brought the incident Just
narrated freshly to mind, and sent him
rushing from the room. Not only this,
but growing into an almost certainty
As he hurried along, it added such
speed to his flying feet that, on his ar
rival at POtter's, in . flushed and
heated condition, Tad stumbled almost
head-first against the small. silent man
who had been Mr.. Atherton's fellow
passenger, as he was walking the piazza
with . cigar in his mouth. Hastily ex-
cusing himself, Tad burst into the Of
flee, where Mr.. Potter, who weighed
nearly three hundred pounds. was sit
ting in his shirt-sleeves, reading the
Ne,c England Farmer.
''Say. Mr.. Potter" gasped Tad.
breathlessly. show long has Joe been
gone with that person-passenger-in
the long black cloak?'
"Eh?" responded Mr.. Potter, look
ing up from his paper and speaking
with aggravating deliberation, show
long? Lemme see. Mira" raising
his voice for the benefit of his wife, in
the other room. chow longs that young
Whitney ben away with that air lady
passenger-the one in such a tremen-
dous hurry to git to Middleborrer?'
Tad, with feverish Impotence.
awaited the answer. The small man
on the piazza, near the open door, must
have been of rather inquisitive nat
ure: for. holding his cigar between his
fingers, and his head little to one
side. he. too, seemed to listen for Mrs.
Potter's response.
pretty nigh half n hour" called
Mrs. Potter, through the half-open
door. "Why, who wants to know?"
"Me-Tad Thorne, Mrs. Potter" ex-
| claimed Tad, in an agitated voice, and
oh. Mr.. Potter! 'front.' You have the sor-
rel mare put right in quick, so l can
drive off after herr mean him
dressed up in Mrs. Mason's cloak, and
catch 'em before he-she-gets to Mid
dleboror'
''Why, what on earth is the m.tter
with you?" demanded Mrs. Potter, with
some asperity, as she bounced into the
Office.
"It's that Forrest - his name is
Jones-I mean Edwards" poor Tad
exclaimed, incoherently, "he's stole
Mr.. Atherton's handbag. full of
dfmuns and papers. and dressed up in
Mrs. Mason's clothes and cloak
"Mr. Potter!'' interrupted a quick
and somewhat imperious voice, pro-
eeeding from the smoker of the piazza,
who, fiinging his cigar aside, suddenly
appeared inside the door, shave your
fastest horse put into light buggy,
and be quick about it!' And in the
voice, as well as its owner, Tad, with a
great thrill of JOY, recognized City De-
tective Blossom. who, it will be re-
membered, had caused Mr.. Jones to
restore the little alligator-skin sachel
to Tad. in the streets of Boston, long
time before.
Tell him the sorrel mare. Mr..
Blossom" cried Tad, who was wildly
excited; "she can trot ever so much
faster than Brown Petc-and oh.
please let ME 20, toor'
The detective glanced sharply at
Tad, and nodded. You can CO." he
said. briefly. 1.-The sorrel mare, Mr..
Potter, and be quick about it." he
added; and, greatly bewildercd. Mr..
Potter bawled his directions to his
wife, who repeated them from the back
window to the hostler, in the stable
yard.
How was it?" asked Mr.. Blossom,
in his curt way, as Tad followed him
out on the piazza And Tad succeeded
in giving a tolerably succinct account
of the robbery and leading circnrn-
stances which had made him almost
positive as to the guilty person.
"Smart boy the detective re-
marked. approvingiy, as the buggy |
ratified round to the door; Jump inn
And. springing after Tad. Mr.. Blossom |
snatched the reins from the hostler's |
hands. chirruped to the sorrel mare,
and they were off.
'.It's straight road to MiddlcboTo-
only one hill." gasped Tad. whose
breath was almost taken away by the
with which the light buggy
was being whirled along behind the
nimble heels of the sorrel mare. As |
long as he lives he will never forget
that hight drive over the level, dusty
highway, lined on either side by the
dense piny growth peculiar to the New
England States. The moon was
nearly full, and as it gradually rose
above the tree-tops great patches
of alternate light and shadows We're
thrown across the road. Mr.. Bios
som. whose thin. keen face did not
show the slightest trace of emotion. sat
bolt-upright on the buggy-seat, with
feet firmly braced. his short muscular
arms extended straight out before
him. as rigid as bars OF steel from the
tautened reins, which were wound in
one turn about each of his small, ner-
vous hands.
Evidently Mr.. Blossom not only
knew how to drive but how to get all
possible speed out of the sorrel mare.
With her small ears laid back aud her
~. s,ts<Sx i